


Reap

by calico_fiction



Series: little cuts [15]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Gen, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), References to Torture, Silvertongue, Subterfuge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-01 22:55:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20265856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calico_fiction/pseuds/calico_fiction
Summary: An "Order" that consists of but four members? Now that just can't be right...





	Reap

It's been a little while since Loki has seen a real, actual battlefield. Not that the Black Order will make any attempt to follow war etiquette of course, but there are no buildings or streets or civilians around. Just grass and plains as far as even Jotunn and Æsir eyes can see, with lush green mountains at their backs. Of course, they in the ranks already - ha - _assembled_ know those mountains to be illusory. In this one particular instance Midgardian technology is better than magic though; Ebony, if he still counts himself one of Thanos's children - and in his case Loki can't imagine he doesn't - won't be able to look through or dispel the Wakandan camouflage.

Loki hasn't had any way to tell how well his tricks have paid him forward, in the almost-decade since he set them. Eight years can mean a lot for a long game, or it can mean next to nothing. That's why Loki has kept this particular sowing to himself. It would be... _ungraceful_ to prematurely claim a clever deed that failed. Especially while he's trying to make himself seem valuable, so that the so-called Avengers will allow him to stay, in his own skin and without harassment, with his brother and his people.

Asgard has been on Earth now for weeks shy of a year. Midgard's spring draws to a close, and the African heat is making Loki truly miserable as they await the arrival of their would-be invaders. Loki had explained the nature of Thanos's mission as part of his bid for clemency, as humiliating as it had been to admit to having committed actions not entirely his own. (He had insisted on taking due credit for each little thing that was his idea, unbothered by how every word from his mouth had made several anger-red faces - including Thor's - edge closer and closer to purple; Loki has always loved a nice gem tone.) Then a few weeks ago, some stellar radar or other had taken note of the size and rapidly shrinking distance of the then-unidentified object that was Sanctuary II. So here they have gathered, all of them who can face such a force - or at least all of them who are willing to die in the attempt. Three Infinity Stones are here on the battlefield with them, their bait.

There are not very many of them. Those original six who met the first invasion, plus a few more. One small army of ordinary, if very skilled and well-equipped, humans. Barley more than half a dozen Ás, only two of them warriors by trade. And Loki.

More than not, Loki awaits the results of his spells and tricks with curiosity, or glee at having done them whether they succeed or not, but right now he finds himself _hoping_. If his words were powerful enough, his nonchalant asides and his hushed whispers that he left behind to burrow like termites through the foundations of the Black Order, then this meager infantry might be enough.

The shadow of the descending ship casts itself upon the ground like the inverse of a spotlight. The lines of allies on the ground rustle and murmur, knowing the fight will begin now at any moment. They all fall utterly silent as Thanos himself steps out from his ship. He is noticeably alien, and intimidating besides: ridged purple skin, larger than even Hulk, unbrokenly stoic, and covered head to toe and fingertip in decadent golden armor. He is followed out by his Order, each of them smaller but no less clearly from elsewhere, and behind them from the darkening ship there is a racket of howling and snarling. Loki ignores that part; beasts will do what they will, only people can be influenced. Loki counts the visible members. Ebony and Cull on the left, Proxima and Corvus on the right. He waits for the rest. And waits. And none come. It is only those four.

Loki can't help but bark a startled, relieved laugh into the relative silence. Several eyes are sharp on him from the sides but Thanos's are sharper from across the field, zeroing in on him at the noise. His heavy upper lip curls with hatred, and Loki bites back another laugh with difficulty - if only so that he can gloat instead.

"Oh _my_, Lord Thanos," he drawls, the false respect in the title ringing as clear as the cloudless sky above them. He allows a smug grin to stretch all across his face, showing more teeth than humans tend to have, the sharpness of it glinting in his eyes like knives. "Whatever _could_ have happened to the rest of your Order?" Thanos takes one threatening step towards him. It's like Loki is the only person on the battlefield for him, and in the ecstatic rush of such a resounding success the attention is thrilling. Loki widens his eyes, gasps theatrically, flutters a hand delicately over his heart. "_Surely_ they didn't all abandon you within the last eight years?"

Thanos shows his teeth now too, the palest shade of lilac, and clenches his huge fists with a snarl that echoes over the fields. Loki's laugh escapes now, but he's not that broken up to hear it be free.

"_What. Did. You. Do._"

"Oh!" Loki gasps, and throws his other hand up to cover the first. "You didn't think 'Silvertongue' was _only_ referring to how gifted a liar I am, did you?" He pauses here, for the effect, and then, "Oops." Thor sighs deeply at Loki's right, but Loki can hear in the exasperated sound just how tightly Thor's lips are pursed to hold down his smile. Loki almost wants to laugh again. He feels giddy, excited to delve into a battle he is now certain that they will win. He can't even remember the last time he was _excited_. Certainly _not_ within the last eight years, and probably not in the eight before that either.

The Chitauri had found Loki first, and then Thanos had found the Chitauri. The Chitauri hadn't understood Loki, what with his inability to hive with them, but Ebony and the Other had bridged that gap. They didn't hurt him at first. Thanos pretends himself to be a mercy killer; as if super-massive genocide is only pragmatic; as if he doesn't watch, heady with powerlust, the aftermaths of his cullings. No, first he had wanted Loki wooed. He had thought Loki an easy target for indoctrination; isolated, injured, angry, desperate for approval. Loki had been free to wander about a gilded cage and twitter with the other captured birds, a stolen child once again but this time among so many others.

To Gamora, Loki had spoken of Odin. He had compared him to Thanos, had bared himself to her as if seeking her advice, all the truth of his broken pieces scattered onto her desk for her to sort through and find identical to her own, just a hint of magic to gently remind her they were there. To Nebula, Loki had spoken of Thor. That had taken more effort at the time, his own memories smeared over with rage and hurt and hatred, but he'd found as many good things as he could and given them to her. He had dropped them carelessly at her feet as if he thought them worthless, a sparse glittering of magic on top to catch her curiosity so that she might pick them up and find value in them. He had done this with every Order member he had met until Thanos had grown impatient with the wooing, catering each carefully true phrase to match them. Dozens upon dozens of kidnappees and sycophants, each one of them hideously terrifying in their own way - most in their familiarity. And now there are only four left; two that care only for each other, one that cares only for the pain he can inflict, and one that seems to care for nothing at all. None of these four even have any real loyalty to Thanos or his cause.

Loki laughs again. He truly couldn't have performed better.

"I have the Space Stone that I stole from you, too," he brags cheerfully. "It's on my person right at this very moment. Have you missed it very much?"

"_Loki_," Thor hisses in nervous reprimand, but Loki can't hear him over the way Thanos is shaking with fury. Thanos raises one hand, his mere two Stones throwing purple and red refractions.

"I'll pluck it from your corpse," Thanos threatens. Loki shrugs loose shoulders and leans into a ready stance, feeling the comforting tickle of magic in his hands, and laughs yet again.

He can't wait for Thanos to _try_.

**Author's Note:**

> Come chill with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/penlex)!


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